


fractional

by IsleofSolitude



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M, Timelines, Tumblr Prompt, time loops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18471040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsleofSolitude/pseuds/IsleofSolitude
Summary: Three glimpses into three timelines.





	fractional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chibioniyuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibioniyuri/gifts).



> Tumblr prompts from chibioniyuri. The prompt number corresponds with the timeline.
> 
> 4 i don’t know what the fuck true love even is but i do want to hang out with you for basically the rest of my life. (let’s hang out - TO THE DEATH)  
> 8 Ah, unrequited love. When your best isn’t enough. (Participation medals of the heart.)  
> 22 Today’s a perfect day for naked cuddling. I don’t even care what day it is. Every day is perfect. (I’m gonna spend it with you.)

**_Timeline 4_ **

Eliot didn’t know what love was. Not really. He supposed Margo was the closest he could get to being loved: Competition and comfort and secrets and touch and sharing.

Before her it had been a string of relationships that were unhealthy on a good day, and before that Eliot’s formative years were spent in a repressed community that thought smiles were of the devil and children shouldn’t be held once they could walk. 

But that was then, and this is now. And now happens to have Coldwater, Quentin: super nerd with great hair, a stutter, and a heart that should be more damaged than it was, considering how it was worn on his sleeve as he klutzed his way through life. 

And okay, Eliot could barely wrap his head around love, but the thought of being in love was something that he had wanted ever since he was six and heard his mother’s sad voice singing brokenly along to the radio in the kitchen as his father smoked on the porch and swearing he would never be them. 

And maybe the thought of being  _ in love _ with Quentin Coldwater freaked him out and made him want to drink and run and fly and cry all at once.

But maybe love could be okay, if it meant this little dork could look up at him with brave terrified eyes as the words “ So I’m kind of in love with you?” left his (soft dry too far away for comfort) lips. And Eliot didn’t care that technically the Beast could come any day to fuck up their lives and didn’t care that Alice and Julia would be pissed because they didn’t approve of their friend hanging around with him and Margo, and Eliot definitely didn’t care that he was way too sober to feel this giddy, because he was moving, hands tangling in that hair that he couldn’t stop fucking thinking about, and tugging those lips closer until he could forget that love usually wasn’t something he could have, because fuck it. Life was short, and so was Quentin, but they had tonight, and the next, and day sex was always on the table--

(He didn’t say it back, but Quentin got the idea)

* * *

**_Timeline 8_ **

Quentin came back from Brakebills south with a girlfriend, and Eliot introduced them to his boyfriend. 

Quentin tried hard with Alice, and Alice tried hard with Quentin, but they imploded within months. 

Somehow, it was Eliot who was caught in the fallout.

( _ “I don’t know, El, I just don’t understand---what did she mean by that?” _

_ “Q, sweetie, do you really think I have Alice’s vocabulary?” _

_ A snort. “You’re such a dick.” A gulp. “I miss her…I thought she was, you know.” _

_ A sigh. “Q…” _

_ “I just, she was the one, you know? I don’t know that I’ll ever love anyone like I love her.” _

_ “Okay, Q, enough of that.” There’s a brief protest and then the sound of two cups hitting the table. “Let’s get you to bed. You look absolutely awful.” _

_ “Why can’t she see that I was trying to help her?”) _

Eliot would spend hours getting Quentin out of his depressive mode and calling the pharmacy for med refills and prodding Quentin to do his homework and bullying him into the sunshine and eating, and then after Quentin functioned for the day, Eliot would go to bed with Mike, curl around him and let Mike whisper his name and cope for the night.

Morning would come, and Alice would ignore Quentin, and Quentin would stare at Alice, and Eliot would slide a sandwich onto Q’s lap and use every ounce of stage magic he knew to keep himself sane.

Julia shook her head and stayed quiet, rolling her eyes at Margo, who just shrugged and flipped another page of her magazine.

* * *

**_Timeline 22_ **

Quentin didn’t know where Eliot had found this place, but it was perfect. And Quentin didn’t ever---ever-- use that word. Filory wasn’t real, but if it was it would be like this---small waterfalls and rippling water and the smell of pine and cedar and honeysuckle, muted sunlight casting gold everywhere.

A children’s book probably wouldn’t have the smell of sex lingering though.

He lazily tilted his head to look at Eliot, lounging beside him much as he had the first moment he met him, stumbling through some bushes into a whole new world. Like then, he was smoking a cigarette, lost in thought. Quentin curled onto his side, threading a hand over Eliot’s smooth stomach, using the other man to pull himself closer on the blanket. He felt Eliot’s breath catch, and could picture the soft smirk that was most likely on his face, but he didn’t care. It was warm today, and Eliot was warm, and the breeze provided just enough of a contrast to feel good. 

After the attacks, Eliot and Quentin had left the school--tried not to think of the dead eyes of Quentin’s roommate, or the way Alice and Julia had pushed them away. Instead, Eliot had taken him into a portal to somewhere and from there they had found their way here, where Quentin had finally convinced Eliot to  _ just have sex okay? I  _ want _ you Eliot only you  _ fuck him, and now Quentin felt lazy, content, satisfied. A part of his brain wondered if this was how other people felt all the time, all the spirals and sadness melted away for now, but mostly Quentin just wanted to kiss whatever part of Eliot he could reach, and learn how Eliot’s heartbeat felt under his ear.

Eliot put out the cigarette and lowered himself down, sliding a leg between Quentin’s and propping his chin against Quentin’s hair. “This okay?”

“Better than okay.”


End file.
